I was born a bastard child on September 26, 1969 in Flint, Michigan. I am what some call, a "love-child," concieved by two cheating parties. The problem, obviously, isn't the birth, it's the story behind it. I'll never know the whole story, because my sperm-donar, Anthony Keller, didn't live to tell me his side. In fact, his wife shot him, fatally. Some might call it karma, I don't know what to call it.
It happened in the Winter of 1972, in the brand new year of 1972. Not even 2 and a half years old, my biological fathers life was taken. (She got off, perhaps on self-defense, unsure-no research as of yet) Not just from himself but his other child with his wife and me the "love-child." I will say, for many years I was told, by my mom, that Anthony's wife was "crazy". She said Anthony used to tell her stories/about situations between the two of them.
Sidebar:
Now a little about my mom...I love her dearly and somehow I think my mom is just a tiny bit "off" herself. Perhaps, thats why, or part of the reason, my father was attracted to her (heehee) Anyway, she's isn't the best at, as most of us, at telling both sides of a story. That's difficult for anyone, because it can only come from our personal perspective. Even though I understand this, I grew up with the thought of this story has some dramatization to this ending.
About 7-years ago, which puts me at about 34/35 years of age, I decided I wanted to investigate. Lord knows that this could open up a whole can of worms, espically becasue I also had a half brother out there.
To start this journey, I took a trip back home, to Flint, Michigan. My sister was in school there, my daddy's there (the father I refer as daddy, I was raised by him- considered adoption-more on that later), my moms entire family was pretty much there as well. So I figured, I could get a lot accomplished, even IF I chickened out of during the research once I arrived.
I had spoken to my Aunt, before coming, about what I planned to do once I got there. She was very supported and decided she would extend that support by going along with me and taking me around to where ever I may have needed to visit to gather my facts. As I did that leg work, she being there, proved to be a greater support, more than I expected I needed.
I had remembered my mom telling me, Anthonys wife, had given their son up for adoption after his death. First stop, was the agency for adoption. I went in extremely nervious and sweaty palms, either it was going to be able to get the information from an open adoption or orphanage, or not, I just didn't know. I waited in line, got to the counter and I struck out, it seemed, just that quickly. The woman couldn't give me any information. She extended an additonal peice of information, which didn't seem to help at all. She said he was not adopted to any other agency in Flint. At that point, I was completely overwhelmed. Where was I going to begin my search now. My eyes watered up and I could hardly speak. I sat there and took a deep breath and began to give her my reason for being there and what it all means to me. She, then took a breath, spoke very low. She widened her eyes and told me to read between the lines and I should go research his mothers marriages and the files pertaining to custody. I wanted to hug her, clearly I couldn't there was a counter between us. As soon as my butt left the seat I went did just that!
To be continued.....
